U.S. a Place of Miracles for Somali Refugees

Published: July 20, 2003

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Some communities have expressed reluctance to accept the new arrivals. In Cayce, S.C., hundreds of people met last month at the City Council to question the decision to resettle refugees there, arguing that they would strain the city's social service agencies and schools.

State Department officials, who are responsible for refugees, say most communities welcome them. Nationally, these officials say, more than half of refugees find some form of work within six months.

Here, four Somali Bantu adults arrived seven weeks before the Yarrow family. Of those, two have found full-time jobs that pay $6.75 an hour and include health benefits, as housekeepers at a local hotel.

Officials at the International Rescue Committee say such progress is common. From the beginning, instructors prepare refugees with English classes, interview skills and job training, along with lessons about how to shop, where to bank and how the local bus system works.

These lessons are crucial. Refugees here receive assistance from the federal government for four months. After that, they are expected to support themselves. Needy families can continue to receive federal refugee assistance for several months and more from the state after that, but that is discouraged.

"When they realize our support is going to stop, that's when they will feel the pressure," said Miro Marinovich, the Tucson coordinator for the International Rescue Committee.

"But I am very positive about this group," Mr. Marinovich said. "Their willingness to learn and their willingness to work: That's what I believe will carry them through."

Abkow Edow and his wife, Madina Idle, who arrived seven weeks before the Yarrows, offer a glimpse of the thrills and frustrations of ordinary life here. They have opened bank accounts, taken the bus and learned to operate their stove.

They have also learned about the minimum wage and the 40-hour workweek. Mr. Edow, who was a truck driver in Somalia, seems poised to get a job as a steward in a hotel. He has two children and a grandson and all three have fallen in love with strawberry ice cream and American cartoons.

But the family still tiptoes around some of the appliances.

"The oven, we're still afraid of it," confessed Mr. Edow, 55. "We're still afraid of the dishwasher. We have never seen such things in our lives."

Mr. Edow dreams of owning an auto-repair shop someday. He wants to shed his old life, just as snakes shed their skins. But at night, he still returns, in his dreams, to the violence in Somalia. Like Mr. Yarrow, he saw his father executed. The killer, he said, used a hammer and nails. He buries his head in his hands at the memory.

"We want to move forward," he said. "We want to forget the past."

On the day the Yarrow family arrived, Mr. Edow was in high spirits. He watched as Mr. Yarrow and his wife, Khadija Hussein, practiced using their first can opener on some Campbell's chicken soup and sampled their first taste of blackberry jam on white bread.

Ms. Hussein looked at the fruit spread hesitantly. Then she took a bite and smiled.